Converse and Bowties
by Ms. Unusual-in-Groovy-Ways
Summary: Rose got to comfort her dying father even though it could of broken the universe. If up to Amy, she would rescue Melody and raise her properly. If this can happen, then the 11th Doctor can comfort a 10. *short conversation between 11 and 10*


**A/N: **Just a little something before you read: I wrote this story to go specifically with the song "Asleep" by the Smiths - even if this isn't a songfic. I honestly say that you should listen it while you're reading because, as I watched Ood Sigma tell Ten that the universe will sing him to sleep, it reminded of the song and it still does.

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**converse and bowties.**

**a short story by**

**ms. unusual-in-groovy-ways**

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The melancholy song of the universe is humming like the swaying breeze of the galaxy. Snow dances, twirls, and pirouettes gracefully in rhythm to the farewell. January 1st - people stubble in and out of pubs, wishing street lamps a happy new year and mailboxes good luck with their newborns. Lovedrunk couples skip hand-in-hand around the city, illuminating the city with rosy warm. Life stirs on gleefully, all while one man stands there solemnly, wishing his love a happy new year.

This man is like anyone else - good-looking, pretty tall, skinny as papercut twig. His face looks as if it was once one of many smiles and meaningful kisses, but it is now hard and stoic. His far away expression is sad, but is broken by the sight of a friend. His eyes widen and tear, but he walks with purpose. His steps, sure and strong, echo off the brick walls into the starry night, as if joining in to wish this glorious man good-bye.

The Doctor walks into the TARDIS with as much poise as a dying man can. He removes his trenchcoat and suddenly convulses with pain. His hearts beat - no, _pound_ like suns going supernova, reading to explode before ending everything else with it. The Doctor clutches his chest and closes his eyes. He doesn't want to die. He can't die. But four knocks, she said. Four knocks and your song will end.

The Doctor stands tall, reaching his full height, and wipes his eyes.

_This is it._

He looks around the TARDIS for something - anything to ease this moment.

_Now is the time._

His eyes desperately take in the room.

_Time is up._

The room is big, grand, and homey. Many memories are here.

_Ready or not..._

But it is cold. No love is here. It is like when children leave home - it's an empty nest.

_5, 4..._

He can remember all of them in this one room. At the same time, their first times.

_3, 2..._

Their faces when it's bigger on the inside. Walking out the door to see the year 5 billion or 1876.

_1..._

His lungs tighten and his hearts stop. He looks to the room again, searching for one face. That's it. One familiar face that will comfort him. Or even a sound. Anything but the doleful moan of an engine.

_Stop._

"I don't want to go."

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The sudden feeling of light is gone. Whatever yellow-gold that had once shot out of him and wrapped itself around him is gone. The Doctor sits at a booth in a diner. He looks around surprised. What was he doing here? Could that all have been a dream? He runs a nervous hand through his spiky hair as a door jingles open. Before curiosity set itself in, a gangly young man walks in and sits down in front of the Doctor.

"Hello," the man says with a shy smile. He is young, maybe twenty-five, twenty-six. He has a kind face with brown, floppy hair. He's handsome, but a little odd too as the Doctor notices his crooked red bowtie.

"Hello," the Doctor replies. He sits in silence, still confused. He looks around to see if this man is meeting anyone else, but the place is empty.

"Do you remember this place?" the strange one asks.

"It's Wilf's diner. The one he always went to."

"Yup. Nice place. I see why you chose it."

"Chose it?" The Doctor raises an (sexy) eyebrow.

"Your subconscious couldn't take regenerating in the TARDIS. Too depressing. You sent yourself here while it's happening. Whenever you're ready, I'll go in."

"You?" The Doctor looks the man over again. It's him! Well, not _him_ him, but this is the next Doctor! Blimey, he thought, is he young. Can he even go to an R rated movie alone?

"Yes. I'm you. Or the next you. Or you in spirit...technically...not really..."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why are you here?"

"Oh, that. Remember when Rose comforted her dad as he, you know, died?"

"Of course. She almost broke time that day."

"Yes, good day. Well, this is the same thing. You're alone - no friend, no companion. And you don't want to go. This is a horrible place to be in. Especially for me! So I'm here to wish luck and good-bye and all that good stuff."

"What? All you're missing is the damn fruit basket! What is this? I've never heard of this! This is ridiculous!"

"Of course it is. That's why I'm here."

"Go away. I want to be alone."

"Oh, no you don't. You can't lie to me. I'm you, in way...sort of...technically..."

"I don't want to hear it. I want to..." He trails off slowly, his voice cranking along with the dying thought.

"Exactly. You want to live, but you can't. It's time."

"I'm dead, am I?" The regenerating Doctor lowers his head.

"Almost, I'm coming in as we speak, but it won't finish until you say your peace."

"What 'peace?' All I have to say is that I don't want to die. I want to live and travel and explore -"

"But that's what I'm going to do!"

"As me! I can't let go. I don't know why. I just can't..." He sighs and rests his head on the table.

It is the truth. He has nothing left - no friends, no family, no companions. Only the TARDIS to keep him company. He has been alone for so long, why miss it? But there is the hope of starting again. Meeting a nice young lady or man, taking them across the stars. That was the name of the game. But why hasn't he found one yet?

"You miss them."

The Doctor sits up and stares. "Huh?"

"You miss them - your companions." The young Doctor shifts uncomfortably, like he can't stand to sit there for so long. Or maybe talk of the past.

"I always miss them."

"This is different. Remember the day the sky changed?"

The Doctor chuckles. He remembered that day like it was the back of his manly, hairy hand. The Earth and twenty-six other planets had moved into the Medusa Cascade to act as a generator. He had almost been killed (again), but he was saved by his make-shift family - Martha Jones, Jack Harkness, Jackie Tyler, Mickey Smith, Sarah Jane Smith, Rose Tyler, and Donna Noble. He even liked his Metacrisis self, which he affectively dubbed Tentoo. It was a scary day, but a happy one as they towed the Earth back to it place in space. It turned sour, however, so quickly as, one-by-one, they each left. First Jack and Martha and then Mickey. Then he had to drop off Jackie and Rose and leave Tentoo as well. Then Donna - his best mate - had to leave because she was now part Time Lord. This was never supposed to happen. He erased her memories and left her with her family.

The Doctor snaps out of it as he realizes he is crying.

"See?" the new Doctor says sadly. "For the first time in forever, you had a family. A proper one. With a mum and dad and sisters and brothers and children and even a dog - you know, Mickey. It was brief, but brilliant. All of you, driving the TARDIS like it was a roadtrip. But it left as soon as it came. And you couldn't live with such lose. Not even you - or us - or me technically...Whatever. But _this_ is why you haven't found anyone else. They can never be the family you held for a second."

"What about you? You're going to be alone."

"Maybe I'll like it. I don't know...maybe I'll find someone. Something. You never know."

"This was inevitable, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, probably. I bet the universe didn't want to repeat the Ol' Bess incident again."

The Doctor laughs, genuinely for the first time in a long while. "I screwed that one up, didn't I?"

"Oh yes you did, you dog," Eleven says with an uncontrolable grin.

"Ha! You are a cheeky one, aren't you?"

"Maybe. Haven't figured it out yet."

"I wish you luck, my friend."

"What? We're done?"

"I am, yes."

"You're ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be, I guess. But I realize that you're right - I wasn't going to move on. It's better that a new man carries my burden then me drowning it it."

The soon-to-be Doctor looks down and, for the first time, shows fear. "Do you think I'll be okay?"

"No," the Doctor spits out quickly. He stands up from his seat and stares at the shining sky. "You're currently the oldest Doctor the world as seen. You'll carry the cross of ten previous men as well as your own. You'll probably have it worse than we did. But we have a funny way of taking care of ourselves. You will be the type of man who can bare the weight with a smile, I know that. We don't regenerate at random, you know. We have meaning behind us. We fit the world we are born into."

"Which is...?"

"A man's reluctance to go."

Eleven gets up and awkwardly hugs Ten. "You were a great man, you know that right? The world will miss you and mourn you feverishly."

"Let them," he smiles as he lets go. "I'm going to bed."

The Tenth Doctor walks out of the building with a sad smile and disappears into the light. As he does so, the music of the stars crescendo and fade into the air, like snow in the breeze. The Eleventh Doctor stands there watching his predecessor leave with a lion's grace. The Song of Ten has finished and the now new Doctor closes his eyes.

He opens them to find a crashing TARDIS and, worst of all, that he is not ginger.

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**the end.**

**may ten live on in eternity in the grace of our memories**


End file.
